Winter Winds
by amberleigh90
Summary: He'd always promised her that he'd do anything for her. He'd always be there for her. Damsay TGP COMPLETE


****Yay for new stories...er...one-shots anyway. I've had these written for a while, I just haven't had the chance to post them :)

Please do let me know what you think :)

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><p><strong>As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts, the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms.<strong>

The dark, cold streets of Derry showed him no mercy as the white flakes clung to his worn, tattered jacket. The snow was falling so fast, his feet were being buried up to the middle of his calves. He wasn't sure why he'd made the insane decision to walk to his loft, but he had. He wasn't about to call Cameron out in this mess, to pick him up. He'd just have to suck it up and finish the half-mile trek.

The ringing of his phone startled him, making him jump. He chuckled nervously before looking around to make sure no one had seen him. That would've made for a humiliating headline. _'Damian McGinty: Afraid of cell phones?' _After all this time, they were still writing about him. When would they get enough? He wasn't a musician anymore. He wasn't an actor, a producer, or _anything_in the industry anymore. Looking down at the screen on his phone, he felt that all-too-familiar knot twisting in his stomach. Tentatively, he answered the call, bringing the phone up to his ear.

"Lindsay?" Just whispering her name made him want to break into tears.

"Damian." She didn't say it as a question. It was like breathing a sigh of relief. Even after the four years of being with her, and the two years of being away from her, his heart still sped up when he heard her angelic voice.

"Linds, what's wrong?" He could hear her voice, trembling. As if that tremble wasn't enough to know that she was crying, he could hear her sniffling on the other end of the line.

"I need you, Damo."

It didn't matter that he hadn't seen her in two years; he was still a sucker for her. He'd promised her once that he'd always be there for her if she needed him. And he wasn't about to go back on the promise. No matter what had gone on between them in the past.

"What's going on?" He'd already turned around, and sent a quick text back to Cameron, just so his best friend wouldn't worry. _Don't wait up. I'll be out late._

"Just … please."

"I'm on my way."

The scenarios played out in his mind. What was wrong with her? Was she drunk? He's been drunk dialed once or twice. Did someone break into her apartment? It wouldn't be the first time. Was she hurt? He would kill whoever hurt her. They may have broken up two years ago, but that didn't mean he wasn't still in love with her. _Could he admit it, even to himself? Love?_

**And my head told my heart, let love grow. But my heart told my head, this time no. Yes my heart told my head this time no, this time no.**

Damian found himself banging on her apartment door in a matter of minutes. He'd almost forgotten how fast he could run, even in this weather.

"Come in." He faintly heard from the other side of the door. Slowly turning the silver knob, he let himself in.

"Linds? Where are you?" Barely pulling off his boots and shaking off his jacket before he'd made it to carpet, he paused just inside the door, waiting for her to answer.

"I'm in the spare bedroom," she called. His legs couldn't get him down the hall fast enough. Once he'd made it to the bedroom door, he froze at the sight.

"What happened, Lindsay?" Taking in her appearance, he cautiously stepped over toward her. She cowered back slightly and he moved to turn on the light.

"NO! Please, Damian. Don't." He didn't comply with her request. With the light on, he could see exactly why she wanted to be in the dark.

"Who did this to you?" Both of her eyes were bloodshot. Underneath, bruises bloomed in black and blue. Her lips, usually soft and plump, were cracked and bleeding. She had fingerprints around her neck … clear marks that someone had tried to choke her.

"A – he just gets so angry when he drinks. We went out with some friends of his from work, and he started hitting on the waitress, so I called him out on it." She bitterly continued, "I sure got it when we got home."

His eyes blazed with anger. He gripped at the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Tearing the sleeve off, he dabbed at the blood on her lips.

"Andrew did this to you? Fuck, Linds! This isn't the first time, is it?" With two fingers underneath her chin, he lifted her head so her damp, electric-blue eyes met his. He felt the rage surging inside, and he broke the gaze. Damian clenched his jaw, and took a deep breath to keep from leaving her in the flat, finding Andrew, and beating the living shit out of him.

"He's not usually this bad. And it's just the things I say that make him angry. But … when his hands went around my throat, he got an elbow to the nose. I-I think I broke it. But that's when he kept going."

Breathing a sigh of relief, a funny thought popped into his mind, "Well if you got nothing else out of our relationship, at least you know how to break a nose." The secret, the shared memory, soothed his fire, if only for the moment. Lindsay noticed.

He didn't miss the eye roll she sent his way, or the miniscule smile that played on her bruised and battered face. It didn't matter that she was free of makeup. It didn't matter that her lips weren't full or that her eyes were void of that spark he was well-accustomed to … he knew in that moment that his heart was telling him that he still loved her. Even if his head was telling him "no." He'd always had a problem sending that message to his heart.

**Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night? For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt.**

He cleaned up Lindsay and had an ice pack (really just a bag of frozen peas) on her swollen eyes. Lying on her couch with a down-feather pillow and a blanket Damian had brought from his own loft years ago, Lindsay finally found the comfort she had searched for all night. Tilting her head to the right, she looked over at Damian. He looked completely broken. All that covered him were a throw-blanket wrapped over his shoulders, and a pair of his old basketball shorts that she had never mustered the courage to throw away.

"Thank you, Damian." He looked up at her when she started to speak, and took one of her smaller hands in his giant-like one.

"I told you once before Lindsay, I'll always be here for you. Whether we're nineteen or ninety." He'd earned a slight twitch of her lips before she sighed.

"My heart is telling me something completely different than my head right now."

Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath before licking his lips. "I'm pretty sure you just read my mind. I'm still in love with you."

"Oh, Damian. I don't think I ever stopped loving you. The only reason I'm with Andrew is because he filled the void." Taking her head between his hands, he leaned in, mere inches from her face.

"Lindsay." He couldn't get over how good it felt to let her name roll off his tongue. He could feel her breath on his lips. He almost laughed at the nervousness he was felt. It was as if he was kissing her for the first time, again.

"Are you going to kiss me, or not?" Her abruptness startled him. He let out a breathy laugh before getting up the courage to gently press his lips against her swollen ones. It wasn't long until he felt her tongue pressing against his lips, silently begging for entrance. Parting his lips ever so slightly, his eyelids pressed tightly closed with how good kissing her felt. He was sure he had died and was in heaven.

As their lips slowly parted, Lindsay breathlessly pressed her forehead against his, "Promise me something, yeah?"

"Anything." Was his just as breathless reply.

"Promise me that we'll work on this. That we won't just give up when it gets hard? Because no matter how hard it was to live with you, it's been even harder to live without you." Her shaky hand moved to cup his cheek. He leaned into the small embrace.

Moving his mouth to her ear, he whispered ever so slightly, "Always."


End file.
